


Damage Control

by foxesnotopossums



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bipolar Disorder, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Ian-centric, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Therapy, brief suicide attempt tw, hospital au, ian bonding with the milkovich clan, the gallaghers react differently to Ian's illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4120021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxesnotopossums/pseuds/foxesnotopossums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian Gallagher doesn’t actually want to die, he just hasn’t realized it yet. So at twenty-two-years-old when he is admitted to the Hollybrook Psychiatric Hospital after an unsuccessful suicide attempt the last thing he is expecting is to meet Mandy Milkovich, the roughed up girl from his home town with some baggage of her own. Mandy turns Ian’s world upside down while one very significant problem wears on Ian, he’s falling for Mandy’s brother, Mickey. Ian navigates his way through his struggle with bipolar disorder, his bond with Mandy and his family, and the toxic relationship between himself and Mickey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian makes a decision that will change his life forever. If it doesn't end it first.

 Screaming, that was all Ian could hear as he felt the heavy blanket of unconsciousness falling over him. He thought it was probably Fiona, or maybe Debbie, but he couldn't tell since he'd closed his eyes what felt like ages ago because of all the blood. There was too much of it, he knew he would be sick if he looked at it for one more minute. Plus it was one thing to be found in the bathtub with slit wrists, but to be found with sick all over himself as well would be mortifying, no pun intended.

Ian could feel his body fighting it, could feel himself shaking and going into shock while his siblings grabbed at his paling form. He couldn't make out what they were saying but eventually he heard sirens and then all sound began to dim. This was it, he was dying.

They say that your life flashes before your eyes right before you die, and as cliche as it felt, it really did. Ian found himself remembering things he hadn't thought about in a long time. Like when he was little, he and Lip used to go around terrorizing the neighborhood and all its inhabitants with baseball bats and wicked grins. Or the time Frank left them on the street corner while Ian had a fever of 104. And that one time when Monica decided to take them out to a spectacular dinner, only to make Ian climb out of a broken bathroom window, snagging his only good pair of jeans on the glass shards.

He remembered his first day of elementary school, neither of his parents had been seen in weeks so Fiona helped him pick out an outfit and enthusiastically hugged him before letting him walk through the gates of the shitty southside school. She had never looked prouder of him than she had right at that moment. He remembered Roger Spikey and Kash, yet if he could have he would have shuddered at the memories of being used. They weren't the worst memories either. The worst were the ones where it seemed like he physically disconnected from his own body. He watched himself lying nearly catatonic in bed for days, Debbie and Carl staring at him in fear. He saw himself accepting drugs from strangers while he sat on their lap, earning money for his next fix. He was standing at the bus stop, enlisting in the army at 17. He was hot wiring a helicopter in a manic haze, burning his hand badly and attracting all the attention of the guards. Suddenly he recalled the other times he was manic and going completely batshit, selling himself, being strung out as fuck, and generally making horrible life decisions that landed him in the psych ward. Then things became brighter, he was sitting in front of a doctor with a kind but stern look on her face as she explained to Lip and Fiona his diagnosis. He felt a sense of pride and nostalgia when he witnessed his morning runs with Fiona after he would take his pills, before the younger Gallaghers needed to be anywhere. He had been doing so well, all it took was one fuck up with his medication to throw it all away.

The last memory left him straining against his own mind, he wanted to scream, to reach out and grab his own arm as he watched himself drag the shining blade across his smooth wrist. He wanted to go back and fix it, talk himself down from the ledge he was teetering so precariously on. Ian tried to shut his eyes to stop seeing the vision, but he couldn't do anything.

The end of this memory was different than the others. He could hear beeping that he knew definitely was not there when he'd laid down in the tub. Then, everything just went black.

Slowly he tried opening his eyes and was overwhelmed by the white light and flurry of movements. Ian blinked, trying to figure out where he was and whether or not it was all real. He didn't really trust his brain at the moment, understandably. Once he adjusted to the light he could see six worried, so maybe that was an understatement, faces staring at him, as if they expected him to disappear if they turned away.

"Where am I?" Ian croaked, his throat drier than the Sahara desert in July. Fiona moved first, rushing to pull his head into her arms.

"You're at county," Fiona sounding like she was only just managing to keep the flood gates closed as she stroked Ian's damp, matted hair. "Why would you do that Ian? Why would you even think about that?!" She demanded, pulling away suddenly.

"It's complicated," he mumbled into her dark curls, noticing for the first time how much she smelled like home and comfort. Everything felt so dulled yet intense as his family hugged him tight. He could hear Debbie sniffling in the corner and feel the heat radiating off of Kev's skin and it brought him immense comfort compared to all of the beeping machines and stiff white sheets surrounding him.

He'd survived. This felt like the universe's way of saying he wasn't ready to leave yet. Or maybe it was just sheer coincidence that Carl had starting spewing chunks at the dinner party the Gallagher's had been invited to by Lip's swanky girlfriend. Whatever it was, Ian found himself thanking his lucky stars that his family found him when they did. Even he didn't really know why he wanted to kill himself, he only knew that he didn't think much before he made the decision.

The doctor came in a few moments later, holding a clipboard tightly against his chest. He had to clear his throat to get the Gallaghers and Balls off of Ian's hospital bed so that he could speak to Ian.

"Hello Mr. Gallagher, I am Dr. Patel. Do you mind if we speak alone for a few minutes?" Dr. Patel pointed his question more towards the cluster of people in the room instead of Ian, but he nodded slowly anyways. "Thank you, I will let you all know when you may come back into the room." And with that his family left him alone with the doctor.

"Ian, may I call you Ian?" Ian nodded. "The emergency report says that you had deep gashes on your wrists and forearms. Was this an accident?" Ian shook his head, making sure not to look Dr. Patel in the eye. Dr. Patel made a small noise in response as he wrote something onto the clipboard. "Were you attempting suicide?" Another small nod from Ian. "Why?"

"I'm bipolar." It had been a long time since he had denied that fact of his life. "I guess my meds weren't working anymore because it felt like the only option." Ian's voice was low and ashamed, he was so embarrassed that this had happened. He always vowed he would never be like his mother, yet here he was with slit wrists undergoing a possible psych evaluation.

Dr. Patel scribbled more notes onto his paper before looking at Ian with what seemed to be pity.

"Ian, I'm going to strongly recommend that you be admitted to a psychiatric hospital. It is only for your safety, plus it'll give you the time and space you need to recover." Dr. Patel offered a smile that Ian knew was mandatory for doctors to use with mentally ill patients. It was a smile that said 'I-don't-unterstand-you-at-all-but-I-want-you-to-think-I-do'. "I'll be referring you to Hollybrook, it is the most affordable local hospital and they do very well with their treatment."

"Thank you doctor." Ian nodded at the man who smiled the smile again as he left the room. A few moments later Fiona and Lip entered the room with soft smiles on their faces. Well, at least Fiona had a soft smile, Lip just had the closest thing to a smile he could manage without smirking or sneering. Fiona came to his bedside and gently stroked his bangs out of his face.

"You're gonna get help baby. I'm so sorry this happened, but it's all going to be okay. Okay?" Fiona began to cry, holding his face in both hands. Ian nodded and felt the hot tears leaking from his eyes as well.

"Who knows, maybe this'll change your life!" Lip remarked sarcastically, earning a glare from Fiona and a chuckle from Ian.

If only Ian knew how true that sarcastic quip would become, he might not have felt so alone. For the moment though, Ian just let Fiona cry into his chest until he drifted into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow the tag for extra content (including character aesthetics, playlists and chapter previews/photos) here: http://whatsthattoughguy.tumblr.com/tagged/damage-control-fic
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> A side note- I have never been admitted to a psychiatric hospital, so I am sorry if I get something wrong. I do however suffer from Bipolar 2 disorder (Ian suffers from Bipolar 1 with psychotic features) so I am going to use a lot of my experience with it for this story.


	2. Welcome to Hollybrook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for any mistakes that I make with grammar or spelling, this is not edited.
> 
> Also, I have never been to a psychiatric hospital so I'm sorry if I get some things wrong. (Feel free to let me know if I do!)

When Ian awoke his siblings were nowhere to be seen, although there was a nurse fiddling with his IVs. Once she'd realized he was awake she jumped back like he would bite her. 

"I'm so sorry Mr. Gallagher, I'm just adjusting your fluids," the small woman informed him as she continued to adjust the insertion points and bags of different colored liquids. Ian's heart beat a little quicker when he determined that one of the bags was indeed filled with thick, crimson liquid.

"Is that blood?" He asked. She nodded as if it were nothing. He was quiet for a moment before he couldn't stop himself from asking, "That's not my blood, is it?" 

"Oh no! It is compatible with your own." She was about to smile sweetly at him before she realized he was paling significantly, so she added quickly, "You lost a lot of blood last night, so we needed to give you an emergency blood transfusion. Your sister gave consent, as you were unconscious at the time." 

Ian nodded awkwardly even though he didn't need to. The nurse gave him one last sympathetic look and asked if he needed anything before telling him the doctor would see him shortly and leaving. Now alone in the room, he slumped a little and tried to remember as much of last night as he could. He hadn't gone to work like he was supposed to in the afternoon because he wasn't feeling well, he didn't even call in sick. Fiona had been home, so had Liam, but Debbie and Carl were off doing their own thing because school was out already. Why had Fiona been home? It was a weekday, a Monday. It was Memorial Day! Fiona noticed that something was off with Ian, but how could she not, he had been laying on the couch with dead eyes all morning. So around noon she sat herself down and pulled his head into her lap, stroking his hair like she always did and talking about nothing in particular. 

"Wanna watch the lions?" She'd asked a little too enthusiastically, making Ian flinch. He mumbled some gibberish in reply that she took as a 'yes'. Fiona had some how gotten it into her head that if she put on the lion documentary Ian would magically snap out of it. Some days it worked even if it was just getting Ian to reach for the remote and change it or to put a small smile on his face from watching the cubs roughhouse. 

He remembers Fiona getting up to answer the ringing phone and make him some toast, only to come back to find him sobbing quietly into the couch cushions. There was nothing more embarrassing than falling apart in front of other people, especially for Ian, who was always the strong one, the rock until his disorder decided to rear its ugly head. He hated feeling like this, like he was being so ridiculous. There was no logical reason or cause for his behaviour. He hadn't been laid off, dumped, or hurt by anyone in any way, yet he could not stop the choked out noises from escaping his throat as he cried. Fiona's eyes watered at the sight before her and Ian mistook it as pity and resignation. He thought she was exhausted by his intense emotions that changed like the seasons. When Fiona had reached out hold his hand he wanted to shout at her to leave, to tell her not to touch him, but he couldn't breathe properly, his chest was too tight and his lungs felt like they were filling with fluid. She had to leave soon, as Ian remembered hearing her whisper into his hair. But she also said that she would be back later to pick all the kids up for the nice dinner Lip had invited them to. Ian knew he wasn't going to be able to go, not if Lip wanted to maintain a good reputation among his upper class friends. Having a mentally ill exotic gentleman's dancer for a brother tends to ruin people's image. 

Once everyone had left for the night his recollection became hazy. He couldn't think clearly at all as he tried to remember what he had been thinking, and it was too painful to think about what he'd been doing to himself. Thankfully he didn't have to struggle with his thoughts because right then the doctor walked into the room. 

"Good afternoon Ian!" Dr. Patel said without any real enthusiasm. Wait, good afternoon? How long had he been out? It couldn't have been more than a few hours. His confusion and shock must have been evident on his face because Dr. Patel explained that it was now four o'clock in the afternoon. He then went on to explain the process of being admitted to Hollybrook and handed him a thick stack of paperwork to fill out. Ian noticed that they were intake forms. Great, he thought to himself, intake forms took forever and they would want him to write down everything from his age to every bad day he'd ever had. After handing back the paperwork he was told that his family would be there to pick him up soon, so there wasn't much else to but watch the small TV fixed to the wall while he waited. This time he didn't let his mind wander and just stared blankly ahead. 

Fiona and Debbie came in quietly halfway into an episode of Family Feud, Fiona rushing to hug him like she always did before handing him a bag of clothes.

"Why don't you put on some clothes so the entire state of Illinois doesn't see your booty," Fiona smiled. Ian gladly grabbed a pair of jeans and a tank top out of the bag, thankful to finally have something besides an itchy paper hospital gown to wear. They should really use those hospital gowns as torture devices, they were that bad.

Shortly after the sisters arrived, they left, this time with Ian in tow. Fiona told Ian that Lip really wanted to be there but that they had really needed him back in the robotics lab he worked in now. Ian rolled his eyes at that. Lip was always busy, even if it was something really important and it never failed to piss Ian off. The car ride was about an hour since Hollybrook was in a suburb of Chicago, not in the city itself. 

Due to facility rules Fiona and Debbie were not allowed to accompany him inside of the facility during intake, so he hugged them goodbye at the door as they promised they would visit him.

A short stocky man with a name tag that said 'Hector' escorted Ian to a room where they checked him for any items that could be dangerous, took his phone and keys, and gave him a hospital bracelet that he had to wear at all times. He was taken to his room and introduced to his roommate, a man in his 50's with a solemn look on his face. After putting his belongings on the bed Hector showed him the rest of the facility, explaining the rules and the 'point system'. If he did something that was constructive towards his recovery or the recovery of another patient, he would get points. If he broke the rules (no smoking, no running in the hallways, no leaving the facility unless given permission, no fighting or violence, show up for every meal, appointment and meds check, lights out at ten, things like that) he would lose points. The points didn't even mean much it was just a method of positive reinforcement. 

At the end of his facility tour he was led to a medium sized room with a comfortable looking tan sofa and more bookshelves than were probably necessary. In the middle of the room was a large wood desk that was kept immaculately clean aside from an old green overhead lamp, a nameplate that said 'Azuka Akenzua', and a small computer that looked like it was from the Cretaceous period. All in all, it was unimpressive and typical for a therapists' office. 

Without needing to be told, he sat in one of the chairs that faced the desk, waiting for the newest doctor to come take a peak into his head. He didn't have to wait long before a woman in the world's most purple outfit walked in. It should have looked unprofessional and ridiculous on anyone, but on this woman it exuded elegance and warmth. Her skin was dark and soft looking in contrast to her eyes. Her eyes were dark as well, but they had a certain hardness to them that told Ian he couldn't hide anything from her. Neither person had said a word yet, so Ian twisted his fingers in discomfort. It was always intimidating and nerve wracking to meet a new therapist for the first time. Ian supposed it must be because he knew this person in front of him now would know all of the terrible things that had ever happened in his life. It was her job to help him understand himself better so he could help himself. She had power and he was helpless. Finally, she cleared her throat to draw his attention. 

"Hello, I am Dr. Azuka." Dr. Azuka spoke with a thick accent and heavy words. Ian didn't say anything back to her for a minute, just staring at the stack of forms that she'd placed in front of her. They were pulled away from his vision then as she tucked them away into her file cabinet. "Let's not worry about those. I'd like to get to know you first, Ian. Tell me about yourself." 

"There's not much to tell," Ian immediately regretted acting so immature, she was just doing her job. "I mean, I don't really know what you want to know. You probably want to know how I feel, right?" There was no malice or contempt in his voice. 

"That is a start, but we don't need to talk about how you feel yet if you're not ready." She smiled at him and Ian was surprised to see it wasn't like Dr. Patel's patronizing smile from the night before. "Tell me anything, talk about your family, your favorite memory, how you feel. Just tell me about you." She emphasized the last word and with her already heavy accent it was like a punch to the gut. It was weird for him to talk about himself, it always had been. So he decided he'd tell her this.

"I'm not used to talking about me," he said with a shrug. 

"Why is that?" She asked, leaning back slightly in her black faux leather chair. 

"When I was growing up it was always about Fiona's newest job or Lip's scams and genius plans or Carl blowing up the neighbor's cat or something like that. It was never really about me." Ian admitted. Dr. Azuka nodded. "I mean I'm the middle child of six, it's kind of easy to just disappear." 

"And how do you feel about that?" Ian couldn't help but roll his eyes at the stereotypical therapist response. "I'm sorry Ian, but it is my job to get into your head. It's easiest for both of us if you let me in." Her face was set into a firm expression. 

"I feel pretty crappy about it," Ian tried to gauge her reaction to his language, but she made no visible sign of protest, so he continued,"But I'm used to it, I don't mind so much now that I'm older." 

"Has having bipolar disorder changed how they paid attention to you at all?" Ian nodded quickly. "How?" 

"Well Fiona worries a lot more about me and Lip checks up on me more often, but the younger ones don't seem to have changed the way they see me at all. I mean, I thought Debs would be scared of me, but she isn't. If anything Carl just thinks I'm more badass now." Ian chuckled which caused her to smile as well. "I thought they would all think I was crazy, like I was my mother, but they didn't." 

"People can surprise you like that," she said. Ian was almost disappointed when she retrieved the paperwork from earlier from her file cabinet. "Now that I know a little more about you I need to ask you some questions regarding your history with bipolar disorder." 

"Okay," Ian breathed, mentally preparing himself. 

"You were admitted to a psychiatric ward before this during a manic episode five years ago and were subsequently prescribed medication for Bipolar 1 Disorder, is that correct?" Ian nodded in confirmation. "Which medications are you on?" 

"Olanzapine, Lithium, and Aripiprazole."

"And you didn't stop taking any of these without direction to do so from a psychiatrist?" Ian shook his head. "How were you feeling on this particular mixture?"

"I felt mostly fine until recently besides having some muscle cramps and the zombie effect," she looked a little amused at his word choice but didn't comment on it.

"And what changed recently?" 

"I just started feeling depressed again. Some days it was like I would crack if I moved at all." Dr. Azuka spent a minute writing something down before addressing him once again. 

"I think it might be best to take you off of Aripiprazole if you're having muscle cramps, Olanzapine should be enough to prevent a manic episode alongside the Lithium." She thought for a moment before continuing," It's not usually suggested or proven that antidepressants work on people diagnosed with Bipolar 1 Disorder and there is a possibility that it can trigger a manic episode, but... I think it would be beneficial to start you on Fluoxetine and we can monitor if it is helping in a controlled, safe environment like this facility." 

"Okay," Ian just took in the information she gave him about side effects and dosages until the end of the hour. 

"Completely unrelated, I hear it's Taco Tuesday, go get some dinner Ian," She waved at him as he left the room. "I will see you tomorrow at two."

That night he sat alone at dinner, too tired to try and speak to the other patients. He wasn't even really sure of what he would say if he did. Fortunately nobody decided that they wanted to sit with the new guy so he was left alone throughout his meal. After dinner and nighttime medications he went straight to his room and fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. 

..................................

The next day Ian sat idly at the pathetic excuse the ward called the "arts n' crafts" table. Lunch wasn't for another half hour and he didn't feel like wandering the hallways so he just sat. He figured most days were like this, other patients played table tennis (don't call it ping-pong, jesus, that was just plain unprofessional), read books, even just talked to themselves or other patients. Ian was shit at table tennis and didn't really find much joy in literary endeavors due to the zombie effect of his new meds so he sat alone in front of tubes of glitter and red paint. It almost felt symbolic to be the gay, friendless twenty year old sitting in front of tubes of glitter in a mental hospital. 

"Anyone home?" A pale girl with long black hair waved a thin hand in front of Ian's eyes. His eyes snapped up to get a better look at her and he realized he'd seen her before. "Everyone else is either mumbling or drooling, figured you're the closest to sanity. It doesn't hurt that you're pretty hot too." 

"Im gay," he blurts out before he can stop himself. Wow, good going Ian. Someone tries to be your friend and the first thing you can do is vomit about your love of dick. Real good strategy for making friends. "Sorry, that was terrible. Jesus!" 

"Hey, chill it's all good. Knew there had to be a catch there somewhere, just didnt expect for you to be more interested in fucking my brother than me," she laughed harshly. It was the kind of laugh that was hard and cynical, yet still contagious. Ian couldnt help but chuckle at how she threw her head back. "That's a first."

"I don't know, is your brother hot? Because I may not be a catch but I do have standards." Ian laughed as Mandy's face contorted into one of sour disgust. "So I take it that's a no."

"Ugh if the douchebags could learn how to use a shower they might be bearable. Also, I'm pretty sure one of them is still married," She brushed the black bangs out of her face as she extended her other hand. "I'm Mandy by the way." 

"Ian." He shook her frail hand with the feeling that if he squeezed he might break some of the fragile bones inside. Her bright blue eyes stopped on the bandages wrapped around his wrists before looking away quickly like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to look. Then it clicked how he knew her. She was a Milkovich from the neighborhood. "Wait are you Mandy Milkovich? From Canaryville?" 

"The one and only." She smirked, "You're Southside too?"

"I'm a Gallagher, one of Frank's kids on a technicality." Ian grinned as Mandy let her jaw drop slightly and then recover. 

"Ian Gallagher! You sat behind me sophomore year in English class! I remember thinking you were so mysterious with your whole silent act." She wiggled her eyebrows and he just laughed shaking his head in disbelief. It felt good to meet someone who reminded him of home in this lonely ass place.

"I was trying to ignore the fact that our teacher had a constant hard on." She shudders at that, seeming to remember just as clearly as Ian had. "So what're you in here for anyways? You don't usually see such a pretty face locked up in a psych ward." Mandy didnt really beat around the bush and it was quite obvious. Ian gaped at her like a fish out of water while she waited for his answer, twirling one of the markers left on the table. 

"Isn't there like a rule about asking that? Is that even socially acceptable?" He asked feeling slightly uncomfortable at the suddent change in topics. He didnt need to ruin this friendship before it even started by letting her know that this was his second stay in a psych ward. That fact didn't exactly do anyone wonders when it came to making friends. 

"What is this, Fight Club? Do I look like I give a shit about whats socially acceptable? I'm a Milkovich for fucks sake." She scoffed. He shifted lower in his seat, her eyes pateintly watched his every move while he gathered up the willpower to talk about it. 

"I tried to kill myself." He sighed after a minute of silence that told him Mandy Milkovich was not going to go away any time soon. He met her gaze and found her eyes looked like something had wounded them. Fucking knew she'd probably pity him. Everyone did. So instead of letting her feel bad for him, he snapped back to her, "Besides, I could say the same for you. What the fuck are you in here for anyways?" 

"If I tell you then I'll have to kill you." She teased, dodging his hand as he swatted at her. " Apparently I've got some sort of 'post traumatic stress disorder due to childhood trauma'." She recited the words just like the psychiatrist had said them to her. They sat in amiable silence for a few minutes until Mandy decided she needed to know more.

"Why'd you try to kill yourself?"

"You mean besides living in the shithole called the Southside?" Ian snorted and rolled his eyes. Mandy didn't seem to find it as funny though. She stared hard at his face until he spoke up yet again. "I'm bipolar, manic depressive. One day I'm on top of the world, doing crazy, reckless shit like a maniac, the next I'm..." Mandy nodded seriously, like he didn't need to explain the drugs or the whole suicide thing. He was grateful for that, he was barely able to talk to Dr. Azuka about any of the things he'd done when he was in an episode. It was too difficult sometimes, to admit that he ever did those things. 

"Guess we're all fucked in the head huh?" Mandy smiles softly at Ian, and for the first time it felt okay to be him, messed up shit and all. Before Ian could say anything in return she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, "Come on Elton John, let's play table tennis." 

"I'm shit at table tennis," he protested half heartedly, letting himself be pulled by his newfound friend. 

"Good, it raises the odds of me beating your ass," she grinned at Ian. Ian couldn't help but admire how beautiful she was when she smiled, the light radiating off of her pale skin and her eyes sparkling. "Race you to the Rec Room!" 

And with that they were running down the corridor with Hector calling after them, informing them that they were both losing three points for running inside. Mandy and Ian just laughed as they skidded to a stop in front of the doorway. Ian couldn't help the way he felt just a little warming knowing that maybe the next thirteen days wouldn't be so terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr whatsthattoughguy.tumblr.com 
> 
> Leave Kudos and Comments!


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